Ode to the lone drinker
by Notemaker
Summary: Harry fic...nothing much really.
1. Harry

Just a little one off

Usual disclaimer ..I dont own them although I wish I did! X

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Sitting.

I have been sat here for longer than I know. Sitting in the same spot, same chair, as I always have. It's the same bar, same bar man, same un-spoken order and the same malted drink I always drink. The barman nods when I walk in and sets the glass and bottle down at my chair before I've even reached it. He knows, it's his job to read people. He can tell who is out of place, the troublemakers, and the ones who don't belong. He can tell who drinks what and why. Whose wife he needn't mention their last visit to and whose going to end up with a fate like mine. Lone drinkers with their bottles and thoughts.

Pouring.

The liquid pours from the bottle leaving it a little emptier inside. I'm empty. A little more now than last year, a little more then than the year before. Parts of me have dwindled away; leaving nothing but space that can't be filled. Unexpected parts. I've played God too many times to be worried about amounts of lives anymore. But with each person I sanction to be killed something disappears maybe a little of my soul goes with them.

Swilling.

I swill the golden liquid in the glass. Watches as it fills the space and settles in the bottom over and over, always the same. Consistency that's what I lack. Some would say I had gained it the last few months. I arrive at the same time and leave at the same time. I take the same route to work, I drive the same car. I buy the same dog food, cat food. But it's not consistent not the consistency I want. What I crave is a wholly different matter altogether.

Tasting.

The sweet goodness fills my mouth. I hold it there enjoying the taste, taking pleasure in exploring the make up of this 13 year old drink. Details. God is in the details. The details make up the whole picture. You couldn't paint a flower or compose a song if you didn't have the correct shade or cadence. You cant know a person with out the details. I couldn't do my job if I couldn't explore and accept them.

Reflecting.

This time last year I was sat right here. Same spot, safe chair, same bar, same bar man, same un-spoken order and this same malted drink. Except it wasn't the same. It was completely different. I was surrounded by friends, by laughter and animated conversation. They knew who I was, they knew the details, the ones I chose to share. But now I'm sat here alone, on my own. That's what I am now, I'm on my own.


	2. Ruth

Sitting.

I have been sat here for longer than I know. An unknown bar, an unknown seat, unknown drinkers and an unknown face. The bar man refills my glass with a clear liquid and I smile an unknown smile. I didn't order this he placed it in front of me stirring me from my thoughts, my head lifting from my hands. He can tell I don't belong here and that I don't want to tell him why. He nods an understanding and I stay.

Pouring.

They poured down my face for days. The tears only stopped a few hours ago and I had to get out. I couldn't stay in the greyness that is the state of 5s safe houses abroad. I promised myself I'd find a place to stay, a job, a new life but it's too soon. They poured down my cheeks but they will pour no more. I have to be strong now I'm out here alone.

Drinking.

I take the liquid into my mouth. It's fruity but the kick is definite. It assaults you after a few seconds. I let it settle in my mouth and then swill it slightly relishing its release. Turning to drink is not an option for me, I won't let myself rely on the demon it can become. I might not be me anymore but I still want to be true to myself.

Watching.

There's a group in the corner, huddled, sharing secrets, lives. A couple talk at a table, he stokes her hand and she leans reassuringly towards him, smiling sweetly. Only they exist. Two men scan the bar, spy me and resign themselves to the foam left in the glass with dejected looks, eventually returning home as the bubbles disappear. They don't know what they have. Neither did I.

Reflecting.

I've never been a fan of pubs but now I'd happily never leave one. I enjoyed anonymous company now a friendly word I would do a lot for. The loneliness of knowing I'll never go back again, to that life, to that warmth. No-one knows me here, I don't even recognise myself. I'm changing. My name, my manner, my thoughts are even evolving in to the legend I've become. But I still know one thing. I'd give my life for him again.


End file.
